When the Past Comes Back
by Nikolettelime
Summary: A man from Jess' past comes back for him. And it may prove hazard to the cowboy's health. Please read and Review it feeds the muse.


I read somewhere that Jess served as a Union Soldier but joined the ranks of the Confederacy to pass along information.(I wish I could remember so credit could go to the right person.) I'm playing with the timeline a bit for my creative reasoning.

Shameless hurt Jess. (Sorry. Not sorry.) Oops

I own nothing that is recognized

Another hot Wyoming morning greeted Jess, with the promise of an even hotter afternoon, as he buckled his gun belt on and stood on the porch. He needed to get to the north pasture and mend the fences.

Slim had taken Daisy and Mike to town in the wagon to get supplies and so Daisy could check on the store keepers wife, who was due any day.

Saddling up his horse and grabbing his canteen, Jess started out to the pasture. He loved the ride over the hills where he could look down on the spread of land around him. It was never how he pictured his life going. He was, as Andy had called him, a saddle tramp. Never to hang his hat in one place for long and to never tie himself down in any way.

But here he was, going on four years and having found more than just a job, but a family. He was thankful that they had all accepted him, especially with Andy being young and impressionable.

It took a few hours to ride the range to where he needed to start working, leaving Jess grateful that Slim suggested taking the spare wagon with the needed supplies up the day before and leave it.

If he worked and got as much done as he planned to, the remaining fence would be finished that evening, just before dinner. He had left a quick note letting Slim know his plans of finishing that day and would be back by the time dinner would be set. He would leave the wagon there after finishing and then bring Mike with him in the morning. Maybe take the boy fishing, since that had been all he talked about for the past week.

He shook his head at his inner dialogue and tied his horse to a nearby tree, and started to work.

By the time Slim, Daisy and Mike were all home, the sun was high in the sky and it was hot. Too hot to be working long hours outside.

But as Jess had said, it had to be done before they lost cattle. He helped take in the supplies and put the away before tending to the horses and chickens.

He had found the note that was left for him and went about handling things around the house and taking care of the few stages they had for the day.

Jess had already shed his shirt and gun belt by the time midday came around and was trying to conserve his canteen, knowing that the closest stream was still a ways off.

He was putting the wire up on a post not really paying attention to his surroundings when he saw riders coming, and wish he had his gun still on him.

He knew Slim was helping the stages and Mort Corey wouldn't be needing him, unless it was an emergency. But then he got a glimpse of who it was and knew he was in trouble.

George Brown and his gang of outlaws had been chased from Carson City to Stockton by him and Marshal Branch McGary. Them arresting the gang lead to George's little brother getting hanged for killing two unarmed men.

The Brown Gang pulled their horses to a stop by Jess and the recognition was immediate. Before Jess could get a word out, Brown had kicked Jess back and had a gun drawn, "Harper, I've been looking for you for over five years. And now you're going to pay. I would hang you, like what happened to my kid brother, but that's too easy and quick for my liking."

Jess looked over at the fence post where his gun was hanging, "Your brother killed two unarmed people. One of them a marshal on vacation with his wife. He was destined for that rope the moment he pulled that trigger."

Brown swung off his horse and grabbed Jess up, "I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENED! HE WAS MY KID BROTHER AND YOU'RE GOING TO PAY!"

It was then, that Jess Harper knew, he would not be making it back home; the 20 men brown had with him was one thing. But the look of pure hate of someone bent on revenge was more than enough to seal that thought like a branding iron.

Mort Corey was in his office when Marshal Branch McGary walked in with his partner, Reb.

"Sherriff, have you heard of the George Brown Gang?"

Mort put his hands on his hips, as he thought, "Yeah, I think I have old wanted posters on him and a few others. What's this about?"

"Brown and his new gang have escaped and have made it known that Jess is in their list. I'd like a few men to go out to Sherman Ranch with us in case there is trouble."

Mort grabbed his hat and had his part time deputy, Collins, watch the town. He had a bad feeling about this and when Jess Harper was involved, you could mostly guarantee that it was a dime store novel waiting to happen.

Slim had just sent the last wagon of the day off and was taking care of the horses when the posse showed up at the door with nearly a dozen guns.

After pleasantries were exchanged, McGary explained the problem and his speculations to the worried rancher and housekeeper, both who had insisted Mike do his homework, while the adults talked.

Daisy packed a pair saddlebag with bandages and medicines, hoping and praying that they were not needed, and that all were just overly cautious about the whole issue.

Sherriff Corey had two men stay behind and guard the ranch house just in case the gang was coming from Laramie, instead of Horse Creek. Daisy then realized how real this had become and prayed they found Jess and he was safe.

Jess was strung up to a tree; wrists tied tightly together and stretched above him, tips of his boots brushing the dirt below him.

"You know, Harper," Brown began, as he walked around his prisoner, "this seems oddly familiar. Do you remember Camp Sumter?"

Jess jerked his head up at the mention of the camp he was starved, beaten, tortured, and imprisoned in.

"Yes. I remember you. You were strong willed down to the moment you were released." Brown smiled as he went to his saddle bags, "You refused to be broken, Harper. But I WILL break you and then I will let you go. Even though I want to kill you slowly, this is the best revenge for what you did to my brother."

The sting of the whip was not expected, but not a surprise. Jess Harper refused to break. He didn't break in the camps when starved and the smell of death was overwhelming. He didn't break when he was left in the desert with no horse. And he didn't break when George Brown had his men beat him off and on the past few hours.

The sunset was beautiful in setting and Jess wearily lifted his head up to watch it sink behind the treetops. He watched it fade until the stars appeared and then he watched them come to life. He would never break, but he would relish what would probably be his last night on earth.

He could feel the fever rising that had started hours ago. No food or water in combination with the beatings and whipping didn't help.

Slim and the posse had stopped for the night, having gotten a late start getting to the pasture little daylight was left. He had wanted to keep going, but he also knew that they could kill their mounts if the got stuck in a hole or hit a rock wrong.

No one really slept that night, the posse was too tightly wired up and those that really knew Jess were telling stories about him.

The sun just peaked over the trees when Jess got splashed with water, waking him up.

"You ready for more fun, Harper? I hope so, because it's coming. I almost brought a branding iron with us. I wanted to brand you as a deserter, but was told that would be taking it too far."

Jess just looked at Brown, "Anyone ever tell you, you talk to much?"

That earned him a hit to the ribs, but didn't stop him from talking, "This the only way you know how to get revenge, Brown? Tying people up and beating them? You're a real coward."

Jess didn't see the stick the brown was carrying until it was too late.

But it was at that time, that the posse came over the ridge and saw the gang of outlaws and Jess strung up to a tree.

Gun shots erupted, men fell and the outlaws left alive were tied up.

Slim, Mort and McGary all rushed to their friends aid; one grabbing the man, one cutting the ropes and the other spreading bed rolls.

Slim fell with the weight off Jess, and held him close, feeling the heat run off him, being careful of the lashes on his back.

"Which one is Brown, McGary?" Slim said, voice deadly calm, "I want him dead." McGary rolled a body over, a circle placed perfectly in the center of the man's head, "Your wish came true, Sherman," Mort said quietly, "someone got him for you."

Due to taking care of Jess, as that was the main focus, Mort Corey and six of his men took the remaining outlaws into town, as Slim, McGary and Reb stayed with Jess, boiling water, applying medicine and wrapping injuries.

The fever had risen again and they couldn't seem to get enough water down the injured man.

Jess talked a lot in his fevered delusions. Often, about helping his dying family, but sometimes, about the war. And then about how he would not break.

It was a long night for those helping Jess. No one slept and they were still on high alert in case someone was hiding in the dark. It seemed to take forever for the sun to start rising, but the moment it did, the wagon that had supplies was emptied and all bed rolls that were available were used to pad the bottom. Jess was soon placed in the back, face down, and a light blanket was thrown over him, Slim jumping up with him, while his and Jess' horses were pulled behind. Frequent stops were made to let Jess rest, and to give him some laudanum and water.

It was after midday when the weary men pulled into the yard, and carrying their friend into the house.

Daisy immediately went to work, shooing everyone from the bedroom and telling them to eat, drink some coffee and rest.

It was sometime later that she reappeared, tired and a bloodstained apron wrapped in her hands.

"It's up to him and God," she said, walking away.

Slim walked into the room him and Jess shared and sighed. Jess was laying on his stomach, back wrapped in bandages that were almost as white as the man wearing them. His breathing was a bit harsh, but for a back sleeper, Slim figured it was not uncommon. Placing a hand on the sleeping boys shoulder, he squeezed gently then went back out.

Goodbyes were said, Branch and Reb needing to escort their prisoners to Cheyenne, and send the doctor to the ranch.

Slim wondered when he started thinking of Jess as a boy. Although, he probably knew when that was and it was because Jess often acted like a child when playing with Mike, or pulling pranks on him.

It was the third day after the rescue and Slim was sitting by Jess, his hand laying on his arm, when Jess woke. But it wasn't the waking the family wanted. It felt like a goodbye to Slim.

Jess asked to see the sunset, which he was allowed to do, wrapped in the cougar skin he had received months prior.*** Sitting in the recliner with the family around him, Daisy holding one hand, Slim the other, and Mike sitting in the floor in front of him, Jess smiled. This was how he wanted to go. Surrounded by family, at home. Not alone, and not by a bullet in the middle of nowhere.

Slim bowed his head as the grip Jess had on his hand loosened and fell and tears silently fell down Daisy's face as she covered her mouth and Mike moved closer as the sun sank that night.

Mort Corey sat in his office going over papers when the door opened, and two men entered, shaking rain off their slickers.

He was about to say something when the fellow by the door looked at him and grinned, blue eyes dancing.

"Jess Harper! You fiddle headed hellion! What are you doing out in this weather?"

Jess just grinned, and proceeded to take his slicker and hat off.

"He's helping me with supplies, Mort," Slim said, also removing his slicker, "Daisy wanted him out of the house for a bit."

Mort pulled Slim away, "How is he?"

"He's doing great, actually. Six weeks ago, though, and I thought we lost him. I'm glad it was only the fever that had breaking, because Daisy was already upset and she would have blamed herself for letting him in the porch."

Mort shook his head, "He keeps you on your toes, though, doesn't he?"

Slim looked over at his best friend, who was getting a cup of coffee, "Yes he does."

Taking a sip of his drink, Jess looked at both men and smiled.

Camp Sumter

About 56,000 soldiers died in prisons during the war, accounting for almost 10% of all Civil War fatalities. During a period of 14 months in Camp Sumter, located near Andersonville, Georgia, 13,000 (28%) of the 45,000 Union soldiers confined there died. (Courtesy of Wikipedia.)

***See the story The Cougar


End file.
